Sunday Morning
by C4bl3Fl4m3
Summary: Movie!Otto and his lover spending a special Sunday Morning together. Songfic to Sunday Morning by Maroon 5. Set after the movie. PoV changes with the chapter between her and him ch 4 has both PoV. Posted on dA on 1.19, 1.23 and for ch 3 & 4 2.11.06.
1. Chapter 1

_Sunday morning rain is falling_  
_Steal some covers share some skin_

I wake up in bed next to him, the pitter-patter of rain falling on the windows making an uneven staccato. Rolling over, I realize why I feel so cold. All the blankets are wrapped around the large man in bed beside me. I grab on a corner of the comforter and pull. It budges a bit, but so does the sleeping octopus next to me. I hear him grumble a bit. "Sorry. I was cold and needed some covers." "Oh... it's alright. Come here." he mumbles and uses a tentacle to open the covers up. I snuggle up next to him, his own soft skin feeling warm indeed.

_Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable_  
_You twist to fit the mold that I am in_

Out the window it may be gray and rainy, but in here, under the covers, snuggled up next to him, it's warm and cozy. I yawn a bit and sigh and realize that these are the moments that actually mean the most to me. Not the craziness of our adventures together, not the triumph of success, but just the warm and special love I feel in this moment, right here, right now. And the love I know he feels for me.

I notice that the position I'm lying in is growing increasingly uncomfortable due to the actuators on his back. I shift a bit, trying to get more comfortable. They move as well, until we can find a position that suits both of us. I cuddle up closer and wrap my arms around his upper belly. It's not always easy to find a position that works. You really do have to work around actuators, whether you're the one who's wearing them or you're the person who's interacting with the one who's wearing them. They do affect all parts of your life.

_But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do_

I sigh again, and start to think about the week ahead of me. Interviews, a 2 day contract project, shopping, paying bills. And also just trying to deal with the winter. Winter's such a hard time of year. I get so depressed. I need more sun. Seriously.

_And I would gladly hit the road get up and go if I knew_  
_That someday it would lead me back to you_  
_That someday it would lead me back to you_

I think about what is has taken us to get to this place. I think about the crimes he's committed. I think about how dangerous his life is, our life is now. I think about how some day I may need to not see him for a period of time, for his protection, for my protection, for our protection. It saddens me. I start to think, however, that it would all be worth it if I knew that I would someday see him again. 


	2. Chapter 2

_That may be all I need_  
_In darkness she is all I see_

I think about the person inside the warm, small, chubby body that's pressed up against me. I've never met someone like her before. I probably will never meet someone like her again. She's so INTENSE. Her happiness is sheer ecstasy. Her sadness is the ultimate in depression. She throws herself so fully into everything she does. Feelings are there to be felt and life is for the living. I marvel at her energy, the way that, when she's not depressed, she radiates life. And she's no dumb cookie either.

Since I've met her, she's been with me through good times and bad. And when the depression overcomes me, when I'm swiftly losing myself, when the Octopus is sucking me into his pernicious clutches, she's there for me, in the most intimate of ways that she could be there. She's there in my mind, not my thinking of her, but her actually IN my mind, fighting for me, trying to keep the evil out to let me return back to myself. In those moments, my darkest hours, she is all that exists outside of the omnipresence that threatens to drive me mad.

_Come and rest your bones with me_  
_Driving slow on sunday morning_  
_And I never want to leave_

I'm glad she's here with me, in my bed, snuggled up to me, intertwined in my actuators. To love, and be loved, and feel love like this is something that I never expected to do after Rosie's death. It is surely not unwelcome. This moment, all the moments we have like this, are so special. I never want them to end. If I could take a moment, make it stop, keep it frozen in time, it's the moments like this that I would want to capture and keep and stay in for the rest of eternity.

_Fingers trace your every outline_  
_Paint a picture with my hands_

I shift to roll over. She untangles herself from my extra appendages. I roll over and look at her, stroking her cheek. "You are so special to me, you know that?" I ask. She smiles and nods. Is that a bit of pink I see in her cheeks? Yes. Her blushing makes me blush.

I say nothing, and slowly start unbuttoning the front of her flannel PJs. She just looks at me. I haven't been this bold with her before. She's not fighting me off, so that must be a good sign. I finish with the buttons and slowly remove her top. She's holding her breath. Literally. With her assistance her pants are removed as well. She lays there, naked and exposed. And yet she's not shy or trying to cover herself. She's so comfortable in her body. She has lectured to me before about how we all have bodies and it's nothing to be ashamed of, but I was raised traditionally and do not know her bohemian ways. And this time, it's different. I'm not feeling ashamed to look at her. Was Adam ashamed to look at Eve?

I run my hands over her every curve. Sometimes my touch is light as a feather, sometimes I press a little harder. She seems to be quite ticklish sometimes. I have to be careful that my touches caress her instead of torment her. Luckily when they're too soft she squirms a bit. I smile at her squirming and her warm flesh underneath my large hands, my dexterous fingers. She is so SMOOTH. And I feel like I'm sculpting clay, with the way her body responds to my stroke, my gentle touch.

_Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm_  
_Change the weather still together when it ends_

She's on top of me now. We're kissing and touching and caressing each other. Her hand through my messy hair, my hands on her ample hips, us exploring each others bodies as lovers do. She's such a joy, such a treasure to have in my life. I move under her, she shifts on top of me. We switch positions, lay on our sides. I move left, she moves right to follow. She rolls on her back, I'm on top of her. We move and roll and tumble in bed, kissing and licking, sucking and caressing. Fingers, shoulders, legs, elbows, lips and toes. The rain has stopped and the sun is starting to peek through the clouds but we don't notice. We're too absorbed in each other. 


	3. Chapter 3

_That may be all I need_  
_In darkness he is all I see_

In the darkest moments of my life, he is there. When depression rolls over me like a tidal wave and I am quickly being sucked into the riptide of despair, he is there, with me, beside me, the only one who's presence manages to make itself known in the darkness. He holds me when I cry, he listens to me while I rant, and even when it hurts so bad that I'm doing everything I can to destroy myself from the inside out, he is there, making his simple strong presence known, letting me know that I'm not alone.

_Come and rest your bones with me_  
_Driving slow on sunday morning_  
_And I never want to leave_

Oh, Otto, stay here with me in bed. Stay like this with me forever. Roll and tumble, kiss and twist and make love with me. I feel so close to you right now, I feel myself wanting to become one with you and you one with me. I feel that until we can become the same person, physically, mentally, emotionally, close just isn't close enough. Go inside of me, slowly, slowly, slowly. Enter me. Let me shelter you from the storm. Let me be your sanctuary. Hold me tight and don't let go, as I do the same to you. 


	4. Chapter 4

_But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do_

It's another Sunday morning now, and that Sunday morning we spent making love feels so far away. Our lives have changed so much. You have performed another dastardly deed and got caught this time. They locked you up and threw away the key. And I find myself getting sucked into the shadier sides of society more and more as I do whatever it takes to get you out of that wretched place. I find myself thinking deviously, as always, but this time actually trying to figure out how to get away with the illegal acts I conjure up in my brain. I find myself meeting shady characters in back alleys, trying to get them to help me break you out. It's not easy. As much as I am devious, I am aligned to use my devious nature in ways that doesn't hurt anyone. Think of me as chaotic good. Having to be chaotic evil just isn't in me. And yet, I'm having to work with men who are like that, I'm having to download bomb making instructions from the Internet, I'm having to figure out how to use my lock picks for more than just the lock on your door.

_Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you_

I watch the rain fall gray and dreary through the window. I gaze out the bars into the fog, into nothingness. This place is a chilly Hell. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let myself become captured? Chalk up another point to my hubris. THEIR hubris. With each day that passes, I find myself falling deeper and deeper into the depression that all too often ensnared your soul. It's so quiet here... too quiet. I... I can't stand the quiet anymore. I yell out your name into the fog, unable to stand the silence anymore, needing to hear the voice of another. I need to hear your voice. But mine is the only one available right now. I call out your name again, Again, AGAIN. I'm calling out to you, I'm begging for you to come and break me out of my dreary cell, or at least to come and be with me, even if it's just for a little while, to come and break me out of the dreary cell of my mind.

_Singing someday it will bring me back to you_

I work at your desk frantically with the actuators you gave me many months ago. I know next to nothing about the task at hand, but they have all the knowledge we need. I can't believe I'm sitting here making a bomb. THEY can't believe that we're making a bomb either. They are not programmed as yours are. They are repulsed at the idea of doing evil. They try to stop me from it. But I explained to them why this is necessary, why we must destroy some property to break you out. I find myself humming as I work, singing an almost mournful song of longing, of love and return that I learned many years ago. I stop, realizing what my subconscious has me humming. A song of return. Of return to you.

_Find a way to bring myself back home to you_

A thought occurs to me and I leap up, grabbing some paper and pens that the prison has so graciously provided to me. They know I'm a scientist and an inventor, one of the most brilliant physicists our society has today. They know I can't just sit still and let my mind rot. My little cell has plenty of books and paper and pens, and the walls are covered in equations. As I start to scribble, I realize why this idea is so important. It's my ticket out of here. Oh, how I need to get out of this place, how I need to return to your arms. My mind wanders to that Sunday morning so long ago that we spent in bed with each other, exploring each other and our love. I've been absorbed by my depression for too long now and I'm realizing exactly how imperative it is for me to figure out how to get out, how to go home. How to go home, back home to you.

_And you may not know_  
_That may be all I need_  
_In darkness you are all I see_  
_Come and rest your bones with me_  
_Driving slow on Sunday morning_


End file.
